Golden
by Jalen Strix
Summary: A one-shot focusing on Riot's ruminations about Jem, and his subsequent actions one night to penetrate the mystery surrounding her.


**Golden**

I saw her leave her usual throng, trailing glitter and gold to my eyes. She turned the corner, into the darker recesses of the mansion where this gathering was being held, with its requisite cast of glitterati. I, of course, followed her. Minx and Rapture understood, though I wasn't sure for how much longer. We all have our foibles, of course, but I chased after Jem the way others chased after me - determined, reckless, heedless of how it appeared. And that just wasn't becoming after a certain amount of time, even for someone with my charisma. Poetic irony, certainly. But becoming? Not as much.

But I had to follow her. It was more than her siren's voice and delectable form, though those were quite persuasive in their own right. And, uncharacteristic of my usual indulgences, it was more than that hot-blooded pursuit that was nearly always more invigorating than the ensuing conquest.

No, what drew me was the conundrum of the tangled web of relationships that sprang between my mysterious Jem, the always off-putting Rio, and the so-stolid Jerrica. Jem obviously cared for Rio, and just as obviously cared about Jerrica. And it was common knowledge that Rio was Jerrica's boyfriend - and also that Rio and Jem were involved on more than a friendly basis. So how, then, could this equation work? Why did Jem not simply let Jerrica have Rio? Particularly when I offered such a very attractive alternative, unquestioning of her mystery, unlike the wayward Mr. Pacheco.

Unquenchable love? It was possible, I suppose. But never once did I see or even hear of a confrontation between Jerrica and Jem over Rio, which any sensible person would expect to have occurred by now with that kind of hidden (and sometimes, to my everlasting envy, not-so-hidden) passion. Never once did a conflagration arise between the Holograms and Jem over Rio's presumed disloyalty to Jerrica - which again, one would expect since they all possess such solid moral compasses, down to the very last one. But no, not even a whisper of a hint of such a conflict.

A puzzle, certainly.

The only way I could fathom it working was that there was some secret between them that was not public knowledge, something that they could not tolerate if it were made public. Perhaps an unofficial threesome? I had certainly heard of such relationships before. My close relationship with Rapture and Minx often sparked similar speculations. And that could be something potentially quite damaging to the Holograms' reputation. Protecting the precious sensibilities of their Starlight girls was likely to take priority.

But to imagine Jem and Jerrica together with Rio...possible, but so unlikely, so out of character for the oh-so-traditional Mr. Pacheco. Of course, that would be the idea - the unexpected. If something like that were true....ah, well, perhaps my respect for the man would increase.

And, given such liberal ways...perhaps there would be a way to expand that threesome to a foursome. Not on a permanent basis, but for a night, perhaps. For a night, to know the woman whose touch tantalized me so. Ah yes, that sweet nectar of knowledge - to see her unfettered from whatever secrets bound her. Though we had stolen away to an island once upon a time, Jem and I, I had never really penetrated her delicious facade. I was an outsider looking in, as the saying goes, pressing my face to the glass, straining to touch as I had been touched by her.

So I had excused myself from my own throng on this night of stars, and followed her like the proverbial spy in the night, if spies were clad in golden brocade frock coats and shining knee-high patent leather boots. Fortunately, the lighting was fairly dim, so my flash and dazzle was muted. I caught the edge of the sparkling confection of her gown rounding a corner, and strode casually in the same direction. As we progressed, I could see she was not searching for the ladies' room, as one might have expected. No, it seemed she searched more for a space of quiet in this maddening carnival of rock stars and movie personas and fashionistas. That I could certainly understand.

I turned the next corner and saw she had moved into a darkened parlor room. Within, she rested at one of the bay windows that looked out onto the ocean. The moonlight streamed in, edging her pink locks with silver. Ah, my untouchable glittering goddess, how I long for you as I stand here in the dark.

I cursed myself mentally a heartbeat later for such an overly-melodramatic thought, but didn't retract it. Passion is a reckless thing.

I padded silently up behind her, so as not to rouse her to my presence. The window was inset to such a degree that I lost sight of her completely as I rounded the side. I heard a deep sigh, and a murmur of something like "Show's over." It seemed she had something weighing on her mind, then. Perhaps this was the moment to delicately breach the mask I so loved - vulnerability often leads to information one would not necessarily share in other circumstances.

I must have made some movement that she heard. Her voice was soft, sudden. "Who's there?"

How to play this...ah, but I had to think quickly!

I let my voice spool out gently, stretching for liquid calm. "It's Riot, my lovely."

The tension in her voice did not ease. "Riot, now is not a good time."

I laughed softly. "Somehow, it never is. But perhaps I can help, if only for a moment." With that, I strode into the light and swept her into my arms and into one of my better passionate kisses, eyes closed, lips soft, demanding and giving in turns. Despite whatever melancholy had controlled her thoughts moments before, she was delightfully responsive. Ah, the feel of her pressed against me, that slender length, that warmth...intoxicating. So familiar, from the few other times we had managed to have a moment like this.

At last, our lips parted and I opened my eyes to begin my subtle interrogation.

And then I stopped. And everything was still and silent, a stricken look twisting her features, the first glisten of tears in the moonlight. Treacherous moonlight! How could it lie so?

It was Jerrica that looked up at me, that I had kissed, that I held in my arms now. The shock of it froze me as surely as Medusa's glance.

"Riot," she began, breathless, her voice fluttering butterfly quick, "I'm sorry....this was a mistake...I know you must have been looking for Jem...the light in here is so finicky...let me help you find her-"

Enlightenment dawned in a heated rush, sudden, riotous, streaming through my brain. I began to laugh, a rich molten thing that filled my chest and spilled out my throat. It was perfect, a golden moment the like of which I had not experienced except in times of extreme drunkenness. I did not know how it was possible, but the kiss would not lie. My eyes did not lie. And the puzzle of Rio, Jem, and Jerrica revealed itself to me at last.

She looked at me, eyes widening. "Riot...are you alright?"

I looked at her, still smiling like a fool, trying to put into words the absurdity of what I now knew and what it changed. "I'm just fine, my dear."

She began to pull away. "I think I should leave."

My hold on her remained firm. "I think you should stay."

She considered this for a moment, conflicting thoughts betraying themselves in her eyes. Ah yes, there was the conflict that had fascinated me - the desire with the caution, like spice to wine. "What about Jem?"

I looked directly into her eyes, serious for the moment, though the smile was tugging again at my lips. "My darling, I apologize that it has taken me this long to understand the quixotic nature of my feelings. But you must admit that you aided and abetted."

The panic began to sing again through her body. "What do you mean?"

I traced my hands deftly down her back, and let a wry smile play on my lips. "Let's start with the simple things - what should I call you, Jem or Jerrica? Which do you actually prefer?"

I saw the calculation flash in her, the decision to maintain her story warring with her need to cease pretense.

I spoke before she could. "I don't know how it's possible, mind you. I know there have been sightings of you both together. And I also know that I followed Jem here, and have found Jerrica." She began to speak, but I continued, smoothing past her objections. "I know the way Jem feels, her skin against mine. I know the way she tastes, the way she smells, the way she sounds. In everything that is not sight, that is not persona, you as Jerrica are her." I let my eyes rest on hers, letting the chords of trust run through my voice. "Whatever magic is responsible, I'm willing to believe it is possible, even if I do not understand the nature of it."

She was silent for some moments. At last her voice came, soft and unsure. "Why would you believe it?"

"Because it makes everything I know about your dual relationship with Rio make beautiful, mad sense." I raised my hand to touch her cheek. Her breath sighed from her in a rush as she closed her eyes. "Also, I'm fashionably arrogant and it makes your refusal of me also make mad - though not beautiful - sense."

That startled a weak laugh from her, and she looked back up at me. "Arrogant you certainly are, Mr. Lllewellyn."

Our laughter echoed together, golden harmony. Ah, such possibilities ahead. "But, I repeat, fashionably so. And since you must be so solid and reliable as the Holograms' manager, someone must provide counterbalance. Someone must allow you to play as Jem."

"And you're the man to do it, are you?" she asked, a deliciously naughty tease in her words. Her fingers played with the soft golden hairs at the nape of my neck, caressing as she had done those precious few times before as Jem.

A shiver of pleasure rose along my spine. "Oh yes, my lovely," I said, drawing in close, breathing her scent as my lips touched hers, "I'm the man to do it."


End file.
